


Homecoming

by maydependent



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Gen, Home, Loneliness, No Smut, canonish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 01:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14094162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maydependent/pseuds/maydependent
Summary: Liam realises that he can't run away forever and returns to grey and miserable London alone.





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> This little fic is based on something that I wrote years ago in another fandom - and I actually like this 1D version a lot better. 
> 
> Huuuuge thanks to @sweariwouldnt for couraging and cheering at me - and being a great beta. All the remaining weirdness and mistakes are mine. This fic is a product of my over active imagination, and I do not own the boys (even though I'd like to).

**HOMECOMING**

The early Sunday morning was bleak and miserable, as expected for London in mid-winter. Steel grey rain clouds scudded low in the sky and bitter north-eastern winds blew sharp little droplets along deserted streets. Not even the bravest dog owners had emerged from the shelter of their homes to defy the horrid conditions.

Liam absentmindedly observed raindrops merging to tiny streams on the tinted windows, before they were swept away in long snake-like trails as the driver accelerated the Mercedes-S along the A4 in West Kensington. Since the tour had ended he'd spent time by himself in different locations around the world, not having to worry too much about schedules or hopefully being recognised. However, over the last few weeks he’d come to the realisation that he couldn’t run away forever.

After the warmth and color of Miami, Martinique and Costa Rica, the dreary grey-toned scenery whizzing past reminded him of that bitterly cold day spent in a video shoot in Somerset. Liam smiled a little at the memory and zipped up his hoodie to ensure he didn’t lose any lingering tropical heat that may still be clinging to him.

At least he’d be warm and comfortable in his own place this time, he thought and sunk deeper into the plush leather seat, enjoying the smooth ride and trying to get used to being back home.

“Do you wish me to turn up the heating, Sir?”

Liam saw the ginger haired driver glancing at him from the mirror. “Oh no, thanks. It’s just fine. Just getting shivers from looking at the weather outside.” He laughed politely. “Has it been this bad lately?”

“We did have one or two almost sunny days the other week, but otherwise it’s been the typical more-or-less wet British winter,” the driver replied with a slight Scottish cadence.

Liam just hummed in response as he leaned back against the new smelling leather of the head rest and let his eyes close. It was odd being back in England again - the place he used to call his home, became somehow less familiar and more distant to him the more he was away. Life here kept rolling forward without him, new people and phenomena filled the spots that he had vacated when he had left for the tour. And now he suddenly felt like an outsider, an alien in the city that he used to call his own.

“Was it a right turn from here, Sir?” The driver interrupted his pondering as they reached the Millharbour crossing.

Liam yawned and sleepily stretched his arms as he slowly gained awareness of the familiar surroundings “Yes. And a left after that red van, thanks.”

He reached for his backpack on the seat next to him and glanced at the clock on his iPhone lock screen.

7.12 am.

He’d better get some sleep first. And then give Niall a call, to see if he knew where the others were.

  * * * * *

A few minutes later, Liam lugged his suitcase through the brightly lit, but deserted entrance lobby of the Pan Peninsula apartment complex. The polished marble floors and walnut wall panels echoed emptily as the wind howled against the raindrop-mosaic covered glass facade.

Leaning against the elevator wall, he inspected his features from the tinted mirrors. His hair was disheveled, he had dark pouches under his tired eyes from the barely slept few hours on flight. Even though his tan made him look a bit better, he had definitely gained a few pounds since the tour ended, something that he’d need to tackle soon.

Once on his floor, he dug out his keys and let himself in, dropping his suitcase by the front door and closed the door behind him. He was finally at home and felt suddenly much more lonely than he had expected.

The apartment bathed in the dusky blue pre-dawn light and everything was eerily quiet. No one to greet him, no one to ask about his trip. No friends, no Watson or even his assistant or PR team running around. No Mum making breakfast or the boys trying to prank him. Everything looked untouched and spotlessly clean, almost sterile. The only sign of life in the hallway was a vase of fresh lilies and a welcome note from the concierge. Liam sighed wearily as he picked up the note, toed off his sneakers, and headed to the kitchen for a quick breakfast before trying to get some sleep to beat the jet-lag.

He prepared his tea precisely as always, then left the trusty blue pot brewing on the counter and fiddled with the piece of paper in his hands in the quiet kitchen.

 

_Welcome home Mr Payne._

_We have stocked your fridge as requested._

_Best regards, Jane/Concierge_

 

The more he thought about how alone and empty he was, the tighter the knot forming inside him became. He turned and leaned against the counter, rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands and wished it wasn’t so damn early so that he could at least call someone.

All of a sudden, something in the dim living room caught his eye. He rounded the kitchen island and stopped to scrutinise the view in front of him. There were few clothes discarded on the floor, a familiar looking hoodie on his couch armrest, two serving bowls on the side table and a small collection of bottles and cans here and there around the room.

A sudden flash of hopefulness and relief flooded inside him. He turned on his heels and hurried towards the bedroom wing of his apartment with a hint of smile on his face. The master bedroom door was open as he had left it and the room seemed untouched, but the door to the bigger guestroom few meters away was slightly ajar and a sound of soft snoring carried to the hallway.

The carefully pushed the door open and to his delight his guest room was very much inhabited. Clothes, pair of boots, a laptop, guitar and more empty bottles scattered around the room. He could identify the newsboy cap and those worn out Chelsea boots anytime.

Liam took a few quiet steps into the room and closer to the king size bed. It was too dim in the early morning light to see properly, but he did recognise two human forms nestled under the thick down duvet. A heavily tattooed hand and raven black hair on the white pillowcase on one side and a pair of smaller sock clad feet sticking out from under the duvet on the other side. A familiar Irishman sprawled on the divan by the floor to ceiling windows, cheek squished against a TV remote. There was also someone on the floor, sprawled partly on a pile of decorative pillows. Hidden under a blanket, but the snuffles and the wheezes gave away more than a thousand images.

As if he’d known he was being observed, Louis stirred awake on the bed and rolled onto his back. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and squinted up at the shadowy figure few meters in front of him.

“Oh fuck,” Louis muttered, as he lowered his head again and folded the thick duvet lower so he could see better.

Liam didn’t reply, but just leaned against the wall by the ensuite door frame trying to get his eyes used to the darkness.

“Shit. Sorry Li, uhm Hi, you’re back.” Louis yawned languidly. “We didn’t expect you back until tonight. You said seven?”

“Yeah, it was seven. Am, not pm.”

“Shit. We were gonna treat you to a surprise welcome home dinner. “Louis slurred, half-asleep, half-drunk. “But you surprised us Li. Sorry you missed the pre-party.”

Liam felt the corner of his mouth twitch as a smile started to creep in on his cheeks.

“And we planned to have a round two with you today. We can start right now if you want,” Louis grinned and hushed a bit as the duvet shifted next to him ”but not sure if the boys have enough stamina”.

Liam smiled fondly at his drunk friend.

“Harold here might make another promise of absolutism when he wakes up,” Louis continued in a whisper and gazed fondly at the sleepy lump on the floor with a wide grin on his face. Zayn rolled and settled his forehead against Louis’ shoulder and murmured in his sleep.

“And where did you find this hermit crab?” Liam nodded fondly at the restless sleeper who now rolled over again.

“You mean Z?” Louis guffawed. “He’s the one who gave us the idea, he called and _begged_ us.”

“What was he begging for?” Liam encouraged him bemusedly.

“Get together, have fun. Get totally wasted, bashed, muddled, sloshed, besoffen, yopparau...” Louis began in a hushed tone. “...I’m sure there’s a good French term for it too, but we’ll have to wait for Haz to wake up,” he added absentmindedly.

“You’re all crazy,” Liam laughed lovingly at his drunken mates, slumbering all around his guest bedroom.

Louis closed his eyes and almost dozed off. Liam stood quietly and observed the room and its occupants. The storm continued battling against the huge windows but inside everything was hushed, muted, and serene. Safe and just lovely.

“Well, great to see you Lou. I’m off to bed now - had a long flight, you know,” Liam finally declared and shoved his hands deeper in his pockets as he backed towards the door. He felt better already having seen his boys and decided to head back to the master bedroom for some much needed sleep. And tea - yeah - that tea would be great.

“Will you four be here when I wake up? Around noon maybe. I’d like to catch up,” he smiled.

Louis’ voice was suddenly more sober. “Li.”

“Yeah?”

“Stay, sleep here with us. There’s some room right here...” Louis lifted the duvet a bit and tapped at the narrow strip of bed next to him invitingly. ”I know there’s not much room and Zayn’s been a restless sleeper as usual, but you’d be in good company.”

Liam’s fingers already found their way to the hoodie zipper. “You sure?” He stopped and glanced at Louis and hoped that he managed to hide the insecurity in his voice.

“Absolutely,” Louis affirmed. “And besides, it’s your bed!”

With a relieved chuckle, Liam started undressing, and Louis gently nudged Zayn  over a bit to make some more room. Louis followed as Liam peeled off layer after layer of clothing. “Is it really that cold outside?”

Liam kicked off his jeans and folded them neatly on a chair. “Just horrid. No use going out today, if you ask me.”

“I was thinking of maybe hibernating here until April at least,” Louis contemplated sleepily.

“I like how your mind works,” Liam laughed as he carefully tiptoed over Harry in his boxers a t-shirt and slipped between the sheets. He crooned in pleasure as he snuggled into the warmth between Louis and Zayn.

“We all missed you Li, how was your trip?”

Liam smiled happily in the darkness - and he realised that the cold knot inside him was gone. “It was great, I’ll tell you more later, maybe on the dinner then. And how are you?”

Louis’ hand snaked around Liam’s shoulder and squeezed him tightly.

“Even better now that you’re back,” he muttered drowsily against the pillow, already drifting back to sleep.

Liam cuddled himself deeper under the duvet and luxuriated in the delightful sleepy heat. Outside, sheets of rain were still beating against the windows violently, but the familiar purr-like snoring and Louis’ tequila scented snuffles made him feel safe and loved. As his body gradually relaxed and he slowly drifted away, Liam realized that it actually was good to be back at home again.


End file.
